


The Curse

by Shareece (kimbob)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:18:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimbob/pseuds/Shareece
Summary: “It’s still bloody hot in here.”Brienne gave him an amused smile. “You could always move over?” She suggested. He was practically glued to her side. “We have a lot of body heat between us.”





	The Curse

“It’s still bloody hot in here.”

 

Brienne gave him an amused smile. “You could always move over?” She suggested. He was practically glued to her side. “We have a lot of body heat between us.”

 

Jaime scoffed and tightened his hold around her waist. “Not a chance, my lady.” He placed his leg over one of her thighs. “Your skin is incredibly soft, and I am pathetically glad I can finally admit out loud how wonderful you smell.” He sniffed at her throat. “Is that Lavender?”

 

Brienne flushed as she nodded. “A gift from Lady Sansa. It’s bathing oils.” Sansa had given her free reign to use the private baths. It was the one thing she truly let herself indulge in while in Winterfell. She sighed as Jaime kissed her throat; until now that is.

 

“You love your baths.” He kissed her throat again. “Perhaps we will be able to share the next one you have? For old times’ sake?”

 

Brienne flushed. This moment was no dream. It was more than she ever thought she would have. She nodded as she smiled shyly.  “I would like that, though I hope you can stay conscious this time.”

 

Jaime lifted his head his eyebrow raising. “An actual Jape? Perhaps I’ve grown on you.” He moved to kiss her throat again, sliding half on top of her with a needy groan.

 

Brienne pushed her mouth against his own as he lifted his head. They kissed each other passionately for a few long moments, her own needy moan escaping her as he slid between her open thighs. “Again?” She whispered against his lips. Two times in one night?  

 

Jaime nodded, rutting against her without shame. “I can’t keep my hands from you.” He whispered, pushing his tongue into her mouth.

 

Desire coiled low in her stomach with his words. She wrapped both arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he pushed inside of her; both gasping as he thrust slowly. This second time was much different than the first, Brienne noted; the first time being fast and frantic, both desperate to feel each other’s flesh against the other. Both giving into the fervent need and want they had denied themselves for years.

 

Now, they made love slowly.  Every deep thrust; every kiss and caress were slow and steady.  Brienne pulled away from his mouth with a loud moan as his pace increased.  She breathed his name, arching her head back so he could kiss her throat. His kisses increased in intensity; the whiskers from his beard scratching her, leaving a delicious burn which caused her to gasp and tighten her legs’ hold around his waist. It was odd that something as simple as his beard burning her throat increased her pleasure.   She was so close.

 

Jaime’s hand found her own and he entwined their fingers. He squeezed her fingers as his pace increased even more. “Brienne.” He breathed as a warning. He too was close.

 

She lifted her free hand, sliding it up the side of his face and through his hair. “Stay—stay inside me. Finish inside.” She whispered.

 

Jaime lifted his head, surprise in his gaze. “Are you sure?” He breathed, leaning down for a bruising kiss.

 

Brienne nodded. “Yes.” She moaned.

 

Jaime nodded, releasing her hand to grasp her hip. His pace quickened.

 

Brienne wrapped her arms around him, enclosing him in her embrace as they both chased their completion. Like a wave, the pleasure began to crest. She could feel the glorious buildup; it was too much. Her eyes began to fill with tears, and they fell into the shell of her ears as she cried out. Lights exploded behind her closed eyelids as she tightened her hold around him. “Jaime,” She breathed, trembling. Unbidden her confession came. “I love you.” She couldn’t stop the words as the pleasure overwhelmed her; could no longer hide from the truth of them.

 

He followed closely behind, groaning out his release. He collapsed onto her, his weight pushing her even further into the mattress. He panted against her neck, muttering words she could not make out.

 

“What?” She whispered, her hands caressing his back.

 

Jaime slowly lifted his head, his gaze soft as he said quietly. “I said I love you too, wench.”

 

Brienne gazed at him, noting the seriousness in his gaze; the absence of the teasing note in his tone.  More tears sprung to her eyes and spilled.

 

“Hey.” He whispered, he leaned down to kiss them away. “I didn’t know my saying the words would make you cry.”

 

She huffed out a laugh as she shook her head. “They’re happy tears, you idiot.” She lifted her hand and began wiping them away.  She shied away from his gaze, now suddenly unable to look at him.

 

Jaime kissed her cheek and she finally met his gaze again. They watched each other quietly, both basking in their new love confession.

 

A sudden gust of icy wind thrust open the windows of her chambers, blowing snow into the room. The candles were blown; the fireplace well onto its way to going out. Jaime scrambled from her embrace, hurrying toward the open window with a curse.

 

Brienne hurried underneath the furs, watching as Jaime shut the windows, grumbling to himself about freezing his arse off. Her eyes tracked his naked form as he moved to place more wood onto the fire. “I thought you were hot?”

 

He huffed as he hurried toward the bed, slipping underneath the covers. “I was until an ice monster blew itself into this room.” He slipped underneath the covers, sliding in closer behind Brienne. “You’ll warm me up, won’t you Ser Lady?”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t—” she trailed off as his hand slid down between her legs.

 

Jaime kissed her shoulder, sliding his leg through her own. “As I said, I cannot keep my hands from you.”

 

Brienne answered him with a kiss, craning her neck back to meet his lips.  Was this truly to be her life now? Being alive and having Jaime; his love and his constant need of her.  She lay back, opening her arms and let him fall into her once more.

 

888888888

 

Brienne woke to the sound of retching.  She sat up, her eyes widening as she spotted Jaime.  He sat in a chair at her small table; clad only in his breeches. His hand gripped the flagon he had brought into her room as he violently vomited up the contents of his stomach. “Jaime, what’s wrong?” She asked.

 

His answer was more vomiting. Brienne slipped out of bed, reached for her robe and slipped it on. She moved toward him, kneeling so she could get a better look at him. “Jaime?” She whispered. He looked up at her, panting. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  His eyes were glassy with sickness. She raised her hand toward his forehead. His skin was clammy.

 

His voice wavered as he spoke. “It seems a sickness has befallen me.”

 

Brienne eyed him worriedly as she ran her fingers through his hair. She moved to pour him a cup of water from the other flagon. She handed it to him, watching as he rinsed his mouth out and spat. “Should I call for the Maester?”

 

Jaime shook his head. “No. I just—” He trailed off and stood.

 

Brienne’s eyes widened as Jaime swayed on his feet. “Jaime!” She wrapped both arms around him and helped him toward the bed.

 

Jaime leaned heavily against her, suddenly drained of his energy. “My lady--” He whispered tiredly. He leaned heavily against her. “I just need to rest.” He muttered seemingly reading her worried thoughts.

 

Brienne helped him underneath the furs, tucking him in gently. She watched as he turned over, his eyes closing immediately as he fell into a fitful sleep.  She watched him silently for a few moments, her thoughts racing with worry. How could this be? How could he be fine one moment then suddenly fall ill the next? She ran her fingers through his hair. The light from the coming dawn crept its way into her quarters and across Jaime’s head. She knew she had to get ready for the day.  She sighed to herself and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “I will be back.”

 

888888888

 

“How long has he been like this?” Sam asked as he examined Jaime.

 

“All day.” Brienne answered softly. She had come to check on him, despaired to find him even worse than when she last saw him. He had been moaning in his sleep as though he were in pain while tossing and turning; skin burning up with fever one moment then cold and clammy the next. He went from complaints of burning up to complaints of freezing.  He couldn’t keep anything down.  Despite his protests, she had told Tyrion of his sickness and asked for Sam’s help.

 

She reached for his hand as he gave another pitiful groan. She avoided Tyrion’s worried, but all-knowing gaze.

 

“What is wrong with him?” Tyrion asked.

 

“Well,” Sam said as he stood up, “it could be the chill, though given the constant vomiting that may not be it.”

 

“Poison perhaps?” Tyrion asked and Sam shook his head.

 

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know many poisons which give these symptoms.”

 

Tyrion sighed in frustration. “Will he die?”

 

Brienne ignored them both, too focused on Jaime as his eyes fluttered open. “Jaime?”

 

“Wench.” He mumbled with a groan. “I’m dying.” He muttered. “If not then just kill me?  Put me out of my misery.”

 

“You aren’t dying.” Sam said with kindness.  “Whatever this is it isn’t fatal. I will have someone steep some herbs for him to drink which may help.”

 

Brienne merely nodded her thanks, quietly watching as the two men left quietly, looking away as Tyrion paused to watch them. She lay down beside him, resting her head on the pillow to watch him. “You hear that? You aren’t dying.”

 

Jaime’s eyes fluttered open once again. “Tell that to my melting insides.”  

 

Brienne gave him a tremulous smile. “A jape? See, you aren’t dying.” Her nervous tone belied her words.  She blinked back tears as she whispered.  “I’ll take care of you.” She ran her fingers through his sweaty hair again.

 

Jaime’s eyes fluttered close once again as he nodded. “I know.”

 

88888888

 

His sickness raged on through the night. Brienne sat vigil beside him, wiping his forehead with a cool cloth when his fever rose; tucking him in under the furs when he complained of being too cold. He had barely been able to keep the brewed herbs she had urged him to drink. So far, she has not seen any changes, but he didn’t seem to worsen which was the only fact that held Brienne together.

 

He turned with a quiet moan.

 

Brienne gently slid her hand up and down his arm. “Shh.” She said softly. “It’s okay.”

 

Jaime groaned; eyes fluttering open. “Brienne—” He breathed, attempting to lift his head. It fell back against the pillows with a soft thump.  “Ser Lady?”

 

“Jaime?” Brienne moved closer toward him. “What is it?”

 

He struggled to open his eyes; forcing them open. His gaze focused on her after a few moments. He reached for her hand. “Brienne—I need you to know you’re the best part of me.”

 

Brienne’s eyes widened then glistened with tears. Her voice trembled as she spoke.  “You pick an interesting moment to say such a thing, Ser.”

 

Jaime squeezed her hand and kiss it. “I don’t deserve you, Brienne.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up.” She hated when he engaged in self-pity. “You deserve me because I say you deserve me.”

 

Jaime laughed or tried to as his laughter sounded more like a dry rasp. He sighed, exhausted. His head slumped back onto the pillow and he lost consciousness once more.

 

Brienne leaned down and kissed his forehead, blinking away her scared tears. She sent a silent prayer to any god who’ll listen if it meant sparing Jaime.  She kissed his forehead once more. “Please.” She whispered.

 

A sharp rap at her door made her glance up. She watched with surprise as the old cook from the kitchen made her way inside. “Yes?”

 

“Gertrude, me Lady. Lady Sansa sent me to check on your man.”

 

Despite herself, Brienne flushed with the mention of who Jaime was to her. She slipped off the bed. “With respect, you’re merely the kitchen cook.”  She would never say something so rude, but her nerves and patience were no more.

 

Gertrude placed her liver spotted hands onto her hips. “I’m more than the cook, me lady! I have an idea of what ails Ser Jaime and I’m simply here to help.”

 

Brienne stared at the old woman warily. Though small and fragile looking, Brienne could feel the sudden strength this woman vibrated. She gestured toward Jaime. “Alright.”

 

Gertrude nodded once and stepped closer. “Alright, let’s see.” She reached her hand out, touching Jaime’s forehead. “Hmmm.” She said with a nod when Jaime jerked away from her. “Just as I suspected. It is a side effect of a curse broken.”  

 

Brienne frowned. “A curse?” She repeated. “How do you mean?”

 

Gertrude waved her hand. “An ancient tale, Ser lady. Some of the old gods were quite malevolent. They thought it unnatural for our kind to give birth to two souls at one time. Any human woman who did so immediately had a curse put upon her babes.  The oldest was cursed with darkness. The youngest cursed with obsession. A tethering, they called it. Most twins destroyed one another, and only in the rarest of cases could the curse be broken by one with the purest of souls.”  She smiled at Brienne as she said this.

 

Brienne glanced at Jaime, who began to toss and turn once again. “That sounds absurd.” She said.

 

Gertrude shrugged. “Maybe so, me Lady, but we did win the army against the dead and there are two full grown dragons outside of these castle walls.”

 

Brienne sighed. She had a point. “Is there anything I can do to ease his pain?”

 

Gertrude nodded and held up a jar. “Rub this salve onto his chest and he’ll be fit as a fiddle by the morrow morn.” She tossed the jar to Brienne who caught it easily. She moved toward the door, pausing as Brienne spoke.

 

Brienne eyed the jar suspiciously. “What is it?”

 

“Dried herbs. Fennel and clove mostly, used to ward off the residuals from his curse. Make sure you’re thorough, me lady. He’s got a nice chest.” With a wink she was gone, leaving a bewildered Brienne to stare at the space she had occupied.

 

Jaime’s painful moan had Brienne quickly moving toward him, kneeling beside the bed while unscrewing the jar.

                         

888888

 

“I smell like a seasoned ham.”

 

They lay in bed; Jaime laying between her open thighs, his back pressed against her front. His arms dangled over her thighs when she lifted her legs to enclose him within her even more. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

 

Jaime reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers.  “I am too.”

 

They both watched the fire quietly for a long moment, until Jaime spoke.

 

“A curse, though?”

 

Brienne shrugged and pressed her lips to his cheek. “The salve worked, at least.” She tilted her head so her gaze can meet his own. “How are you feeling?”

 

Jaime paused before answering. “I feel—lighter.” He kissed her fingertips. “Which is odd given I’ve carried around an impending sense of doom for the past few years.”

 

His tone was casual, but she could hear the worry underneath his words. She wrapped her arms around him. “You should thank the old cook.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

 

Jaime nodded. “I shall. I know you won’t leave me alone if I don’t.” He placed his arms over her own.

 

Brienne let the pleasure of holding him in her arms wash over her before speaking again. “Last night,” She started, “you said some words?”

 

“I meant every word.” He whispered, glancing up at her. “I may have been half dead Brienne, but I remember what words I said to you.”

 

Brienne blinked back the tears she felt rising. “Oh.” Was all she said.

 

He chuckled. “Oh.” He repeated. “I proclaim my undying love and affection and Ser Lady says oh..ow!” He mocked glared at her. “You pinched me.”

 

Brienne rubbed the spot on his forearm she had pinched. “Sorry.” She said, not sounding sorry at all. “Don’t tease me. This is new to me.”

 

Jaime nodded. “It’s new to me as well.”

 

He was right, Brienne realized. This was all new to Jaime; loving another person this intimately and having it returned was a foreign concept to them both. “It’s strange.” She whispered. “Seems too simple.”

 

Jaime nodded. “It is strange, but wonderful, and nothing is ever simple when it comes to us.”  He kissed her chin. “I will thank the old cook later on.”

 

Brienne kissed his cheek in thanks. “Good.”

 

888888

 

Jaime paused in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes searching for the old woman Brienne had described.  He stopped a passing servant. “Excuse me,” He said, “I am looking for Gertrude?”

 

The servant pointed behind her down a small hallway toward another room. “Through there.”

 

Jaime nodded his thanks and made his way into the backroom. He paused in the doorway as he caught sight of an old woman, peeling a bowl of potatoes. He lifted his hand and knocked once.

 

Gertrude looked up, a surprised smile lightly up her old face. “Well look at you, looking hale and hearty. It’s been a long time since a handsome looking man came to see me in the kitchens.”

 

Suddenly flustered, Jaime looked away from her for a long moment feeling the absurd flush to his cheeks.  “I—Uh. I heard I have you to thank. Lady Brienne told me the salve you gave her healed me.”

 

Gertrude waved her hand. “No thanks needed, me Lord. Besides you should thank your lady. She’s the one who broke your spell.”

 

Jaime chuckled a bit as he nodded. “Spell. Of course.”

 

Gertrude raised an eyebrow as she peeled her last potato and slipped it into the bowl. She stood. “Of course, you don’t believe, but tell me have you thought of your twin at all since you woke up this morn? How do you feel about your twin now?”

 

Jaime started with surprise as he realized he had not thought of Cersei at all. She was always the first thing he thought about when he opened his eyes in the morning and the last thing he thought of when he closed his eyes at night. She had been his driving force for his entire life; his equal and other half. His beacon; his pulse beating; Cersei. Cersei. Cersei. But now, he felt—only apathy. He stumbled backward with the revelation, tensing when Gertrude placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Steady yourself, boy.” She patted his shoulder with a small grin. “freedom feels good doesn’t it?”

 

Jaime nodded dumbly as he turned to go. “Thank you.” He mumbled.  He slowly made his way outside, climbing the steps of the castle so he could watch Brienne spar with the other soldiers. As he had been doing since he arrived North, he let the familiar feelings of joy and comfort fill him as he watched her.  Was it truly a curse? He thought of his sister once more, still feeling the odd nothingness. He had always asked himself why he was cursed to love someone so hateful, but he never thought he shook his head.

 

He smiled as he watched her backhand someone into the dirt. He loved her; was in love with her so very deeply. 

 

He let the emotion run through him once more; without guilt.  Cersei was his past. A past he could finally truly let go and leave behind. Brienne. She was his future; his present, and he would not ruin this.  Suddenly, he lifted his golden hand and began to pull it off.  Taking one last look at Brienne, he made his way toward the forge; he had something to melt down.

 

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Later that night, Brienne found herself sweaty and near exhaustion as Jaime kissed the place where her pounding heart resided. She smiled as he next kissed her throat. They had made love twice already; Jaime easily convincing her to skip out on the evening meal. There had been talks of the Dragon Queen leaving for King’s Landing soon. She had been worried for him as they both knew what it meant for his—for her, but he seemed unbothered by it.

 

“When we return to Tarth,” He murmured into her throat, “I shall be your house husband—Lord house husband. Master of keeping the furs warm.”

 

Her eyes widened as his words fully registered. “Did you just—” She trailed off, unable to say the words.

 

Jaime lifted his head so he could meet her gaze. “I did, my lady.” He kissed her throat. “Of course, I understand we’ll have to wait until the end of the war. I know you won’t leave your lady yet.” He kissed her throat again.

 

Brienne nodded, giving him a tremulous smile. Suddenly, she frowned. “If you think I’ll let you simply laze about while on Tarth, you’ve another thing coming.” There was her answer.

 

Jaime grinned. “As my lady, commands.”

 

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_Joanna ran her hand down her stomach, frowning with worry as she felt one of the babes push against her fingertips. “Hmm.”_

_Tywin glanced up from the scroll he was reading through. “What is wrong with you this evening, my love?”_

_“That old woman in Lannisport,” she started softly, “she said our babes will be cursed by the old gods.”_

_Tywin sighed and moved to sit next to her. “You mustn’t listen to the words of an insane woman. Besides, this is the south and we do not worship the old gods and they have no power here.” He kissed her cheek._

_Joanna nodded with a smile. “You’re right.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re right.”_

END


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